Superman Rises
by Mr. Chaos
Summary: In this new vision of the origins of Superman, Clark Kent finds himself pulled from all directions...by his new partner Lois, by Metropolis' favorite son Lex Luthor, by criminal John Corbain, the legacy of a dead planet, and a public that has deified him.
1. Chapter 1

Superman Rises

Chapter One- Prologue

(Outskirts of Metropolis- June 15, 2010)

The city was on fire.

The sirens wailed, miles away but sounding as if they were right in his eardrums. People were crying out, in terror and in fear, to any that might hear them: To friends, to rescue workers, to whatever God they might worship…

…to him.

'Save us!'

'Help us!'

"Please!'

'Do it!'

'Do it now!'

'Do it!'

'SAVE US!'

The man clutched his head, as if the mere action alone was enough to quiet the screams. His eyes squeezed shut as he folded in on himself, his cape falling along his shoulders and draping over him like a security blanket.

Everything hurt. He had never felt pain like this, not just in his body, but in his soul. Did he even have a soul? Or was that something else that made him different from the people that now cried out for him, wondering where he had gone? Did it even matter anymore? Had not everything he'd witnessed prove to him that point? This life, his great failure…it all kept swirling about his head, a frightened populous and sirens providing the soundtrack.

Why couldn't they leave him alone?

Why couldn't they be quiet?

Why could they not let him rest?

"Father…I'm sorry."

(Krypton- 2,717,856 Recorded Cycles Of Rao, the 19th delineation)

(30 Earth Years Earlier)

_Krypton...a planet of brilliant minds, of machines and devices that few in the universe could ever dream of...doomed because of its arrogance. _

_This trait had been long thought to be breed out of us, to be removed from our flesh and leaving us all the better, the stronger, more wise and just. The ages of the barbaric warfare and tribal wars were long past, reduced to little more than lesson taught to our children via their memory crystals. Through the pacts and treaties signed by the ruling houses and the many guilds, peace came to our planet. And with this peace, the struggle to survive turned to the quest for knowledge, for understand._

_For control._

_We believed ourselves to be our masters, above the problems and trials of the lesser creatures whose planets neighbored ours. While they toiled away in the fields, we created synthetics that eliminated hunger forever. While they bickered and fought over the tiniest of problems, we created grand governments that could take care of any problem before it even arose. While they fought against the elements, we used the power of the memory crystals to terraform our world, to transform it from the dirty, barren desert into a clean, polished world of glass and crystal, forever bright and beautiful. While they felt jealously and pain from the emotion they called love, our research into our very genetics allowed us to select the ideal mates for each and every being, to ensure that every son surpassed his father, and every daughter would eclipse her mother. _

_I still now hear the laughter of my contemporaries as they speak of our neighbors, mocking them. The jokes and quips abut the experimental colonies we created, and how slow their progress is. How they failed where we have succeeded, how they lack the true Kryptonian character and force of will to rise above._

_I hear their laughter still, even if now it has turned to screams. The laughter of damned._

_We had long turned our noses to the concerns and fears of others. They were below us, not worthy of our presence, or so we were taught. Is it any wonder then, that as we face our final moments, we do so alone? Should we even show humility and beg for their aid, something the Science Council would never allow, they would not answer. _

_Our doom came quick yet quietly. Disease had been eliminated hundreds of cycles ago, the word itself forgotten, only remembered in ancient memory crystals. Yet it was a word that would rise again, along with another term, forgotten and nearly lost to the past: Death._

_Science Council dispatched its brightest minds in secret, to discover the cause of these deaths. Where once had stood proud cities of light, now lay graveyards, stained with dark blood. It was only when one of our own foolishly inspected a crack that had formed upon the surface of our planet that we discovered the truth: Krypton was rebelling. Krypton was killing us._

_The Council could not hide this fact, not as the ground beneath our feet broke more and more each day, leaving hundreds, then thousands sick, weak, and dying. The core of the planet was becoming a poison, not just to us, but to everything, including itself. For all our control, for all our power and understand, we were doomed._

_Krypton was dying._

_And we could do nothing to save it_

_There were some that did not give into grief. I lead a collation of men and women, the brightest and best of our race, to find a way to save out kind. Miniaturization arks and Phantom Zone technology were considered. But in the end, we found that the simplest answer would provide the escape we needed. We would leave Krypton, make our way to one of colony planets we had created thousands of years ago, to determine once and for all if it was in our nature, or our heritage, that determined our greatness. Though these poor clones had evolved alone different lines than us reduced to a weaker, inferior form, we were still cousins, and would be able to blend in with them._

_But, as I have stated…the arrogance of our people…doomed us all._

_A being from the stars descended down. He appeared glorious, and all that saw him said he appeared as their vision of perfection. Perhaps this is why I first began to distrust him. How can one being appear in my eyes so differently than he appeared in my wife's? Or my brother's? Was he truly all of our visions of the future of our race? Or was it all tricks of light and sound?_

_I suppose I will never know._

_The being, the Visitor, proclaimed to us that he was here to save us. That he had seen in us kindred spirits, advanced and nearing the perfection that he had achieved. He told us that he could not allow our planet to die, and thus he had come to save._

_All he demanded was our obedience as he prepared, to give him all he needed to achieve his goals. _

_We gave it to him willingly._

_My project was abandoned, my fellow scientists flocking to aid the Man from the Stars. They ignored my pleas, my warnings that Krypton was doomed. They gave the Visitor their full attention, and the public rejoiced as he prepared to save us all._

_But while they showed him our grand works and taught him all of the planet he claimed would be his new home, I continued to work, my wife Lara the only one to remain at my side. And even then…I wonder if it was only out of loyalty for me that she remained at my side, and did not give into the joyous hysteria that all others had._

_My work was not easy. The Visitor hungered to know all about the planet, and thus everything that could be provided to him, from memory crystals to simple tools to rare sources of energy were given to him. And to him also went the ships my team had been preparing, to provide him with the means to save the planet. They laughed at me too then, when I warned that we would need them. The Visitor would save us. The ships were no longer needed._

_Only one ship remains now. The smallest, the test ship. I had planned to perform a trial run with this one, but now it seems time has run out. Lara has informed me of the news, and how I wish I could smile at my vindication, even as it seals our doom: The Visitor has abandoned us. He has taken all we gave and left, and the planet shakes and trembles. Outside the people scream for him, beg him to return, to save us. Some still believe he will. The fools. They doomed us all._

_No…almost all._

_If you are hearing this, then I have succeeded. You have landed on colony planet Terrain 6, or as its people call it…Earth. I can only hope that the genes your mother and I provided you have allowed you to thrive upon this planet. _

_You live. This ship, this last remaining vessel, served as your escape from this dying world. And with you goes my hopes, my dreams, and my love. For I can meet death now, knowing that you will be safe._

_Goodbye Kal-El, my precious son. Know that your mother and I love you, and know that we will dwell within your heart forever._

Author's Notes: A year or so ago, when it was announced that DC was going to reboot Superman, I created a 4 page pitch of what I hoped the reboot would be like. While it never made it to Hollywood (I don't even know how I would have done that!), I have refined the story, until I finally decided to make it a special project to work on while I also work on my third novel (my first mystery one, which I hope will be my first published novel…so all those complaining about me not finishing my Bones/Castle story, that is the reason why!)

I am going to say straight away that this is my vision of the Superman origin story, and thus it will be vastly different than much of what you have already seen. I will use these author's notes to explain my thoughts, and also talk about who I would like to see cast in the roles of the characters.

Jor-El's message is very important, not only because it sets up threads for this story, but also because it helps explain some reasons behind the Superman mythos. But it also introduces the first couple changes I made to the Superman Myth: First, that Earth and Humans are cousins of Kryptonians, thus explaining why we look alike and also why Jor-El chose the planet. Next, that Krypton's core was already becoming dangerous to the Kryptonians. And finally…the Visitor. I cannot speak about him just yet, but I am very excited about his inclusion.

I would also like to mention real quick that I am part of the Byrnes-School of thought, in that Clark Kent is the real person and Superman is a secondary job he does, a role he plays. The show Lois and Clark said it best: Clark Kent is who he is…Superman is what he does. If you do not like this, then I suggest you turn away now.

Finally, there are only two people so far that I can think about as far as casting is concerned: For Jor-El and Lara, I would select Dean Cain and Teri Hatcher, as a nod to Lois and Clark. I like how Superman: The Animated Series, made Jor-El a young man, and thus would select him.

Now, if you have comments, questions, casting ideas, whatever, please send them and review! I love to chat about my stories and will send long detailed answers, when I can.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-Kent

She looked upon this man, her lips still burning from his kiss. He was so tall and brave, willing to face potential death without a struggle, still thinking of her safety even at this moment, and knew she had to tell him. She had to let him know just how he felt, in this final moment.

"I love you."

He didn't smile, he didn't bat an eye. He merely spoke.

"I know."

Martha Kent let out a sigh as she watched as Han Solo was lowered into the carbonite freezing chamber. She grabbed her husband's hand, tears in her eyes.

"Now that is a man!" She whispered.

"Hmmm?" Jonathan said, taking a bite of popcorn, more interested in the movie.

"I said-"

"Wait, they are saying something!" He stated quickly, cutting her off.

Martha crossed her arms and huffed.

%^%^%^%

(Smallville, Kansas, 1980)

"Oh, come on Martha, you can't still be mad at me!" Jonathan exclaimed. It was bad enough driving down the dirt road in a truck with shot suspension; having a moody wife only made it worse. It only made him more tense, and thus made the bounces and hops the truck was taking all the more painful. He glanced over at her and sighed. Yup…still mad.

"Don't give me that look, Jonathan Kent," Martha said. Jonathan shrank down slightly, knowing this would not be good. "I was trying to share with you a tender, romantic moment, and you are more interested in stuffing your face!"

Jonathan shook his head, knowing he should be pleading for her forgiveness but just not able to find the strength to do so. He couldn't let her get away with that comment. "How the heck is that romantic? She poured her heart out to him and all he could say is "I know"?"

"He was being stoic, strong."

"He was avoiding admitting his real feelings," Jonathan countered, slowing down after one painful bounce. "Admit it Martha…what would you have done, if I had said that the first time we said "I love you"?"

Martha managed a smile at that thought. "Ignoring the fact that you were the one that said it first…I think I would have clocked you." 

"Exactly." Jonathan placed a hand on Martha's knee. "What you saw up there…that wasn't love. That wasn't two people, dedicated to each other. That was a girl confused and a scoundrel stringing her along."

"Sometimes a girl likes a scoundrel." She let him hang a moment before continuing. "But she always comes back to the reliable man." Martha laughed at a sudden thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if Leia ended up with Luke the Farmboy at the end."

"A farmboy with Jedi powers, Martha. Don't forget-"

The truck trembled.

And it had nothing to do with the road.

The sky sounded as if it were being ripped apart. It was as if an earthquake, a flash flood, and a rage inferno had all occurred at once, right about their heads. The sky cracked open in a thousand different colors, patches of grass exploding into mini-bonfires as steam rose from the ground. The light, so blinding they couldn't even turn their heads a degree towards it, was suddenly snuffed out. A great plume of dirt rose into the sky, sending clods of dirt raining down on the hood of the truck.

"What…was that?" Jonathan asked, turning towards his wife.

Only, she was already out the door, making her way towards the impact site.

"Martha!" Jonathan called out, chasing after her. "Martha!" His long legs managed to make up the head start she had been given. Catching her arm, he forced her to come to a halt, which was a good thing, considering she was only a yard or so away from tripping into the crater that had suddenly appeared in Shuster's Field. "What do you think you are doing?"

Martha locked eyes with him, her pure unadulterated excitement clear. "Jonathan, that was not a meteor strike. That was not debris falling from the sky. And I have never known of any plane with flight abilities like that." She tugged at her restrained arm. "We have got to see what it is!"

Jonathan let her go, allowing her to begin scrambling down the crater. It was easy for even him to forget that, while Martha appeared to be little more than farmer's wife, she also had a bachelors in science, and had spent 2 summers interning at NASA before she had fallen for a senior working to get his degree in agriculture. And while it had been years since she had last been in a lab, the woman that loved to look at telescopes and dreamed of seeing the planet from high above the clouds still dwelled within her.

Who was he to deny her a little joy? Yes, it was risky…but heck, what's the worst that could-

"Oh…oh my God." Martha stammered, her voice soundly unnervingly loud in the silence that had suddenly overtaken the dark field.

"Martha? Martha what is it?"

"Jonathan…oh my God."

"Martha?" He called out, all the more nervous. He was seconds away from heading into the crater himself, when Martha's head poked up, it clear that she was struggling to climb out of the massive hole. Offering his hand to her, Jonathan at once saw what was making things difficult.

Clutched in her arms was a squirming, fussing baby.

Naked save for the red and blue blankets he was wrapped in, the child kept twisting about, his head moving about almost like a bird's, the thin strands of black hair that covered his head becoming mussed up. The child was only a few months old, just finally learning how to pull his head up. Little fingers clutched at Martha's shirt as she finally got her footing, her hands encircling the little bundle tight to her.

"Martha…what…what is that?"

"I think its obvious Jonathan. It's a baby. A baby in…whatever that was. Who would put a baby in that deathtrap."

Jonathan scratched his head. "Maybe it's a Russian…I heard they were doing experiments like that. A Sputnik Baby." He glanced around. "We should put him back." 

"Are you out of your mind?!" Martha screeched, quickly calming herself as the child began to fuss. "Shhh, shh, it's ok," She murmured. Her tone quieter, she turned to once more towards Jonathan, even as she made her way back towards the truck. "We can't leave him there, he'll freeze to death."

Jonathan trailed after his wife, dread growing in the pit of his stomach. "Martha…Martha tell me you are just taking him to the police."

"If that's what you want to hear…"

"Martha!" Jonathan exclaimed. "We can't keep him! This isn't like some puppy you find in the yard. It's a baby! Someone is going to miss him!"

Martha wheeled around, frustrated. "And whoever did doesn't deserve him, Jonathan! They put him in a rocket ship and shot him off!" She cradled the child closer, whispering to him. "Jonathan…he needs our help."

Jonathan closed his eyes. "One night. We watch him for one night, then in the morning I will-"

Sirens suddenly came to life behind them.

Eyes wide, Martha quickly darted towards their truck, Jonathan hot on her heels. She pleaded with him to start the engine, and against his better judgment he did so, putting the vehicle in reverse and just managing to hide it before several black cars burst through the treeline on the opposite side of the field. Watching through the side window, the Kents could only stare as men in black suits moved about the crash site, drawing their guns and searching for…something.

The baby murmured.

"Sir, no sign of any life," One of the men called out.

"Keep looking!" The leader proclaimed, tapping the rocket the baby had been found in with the barrel of his gun. "If anything survived, I want it brought down and taken with this wreck back to LuthorCorp." The man cocked his gun. "And see if there were any eyewitnesses!"

"They want to kill him, Jonathan," Martha whispered, clutching his arm, "I just know. They find him and they will kill him, along with us."

Jonathan knew better than to argue with her, looking behind his should as he quietly drove away from the crash sight, thankful that it was cloudy, providing enough cover to allow for their escape.

For several minutes neither said a word, focused entirely on the strange situation they found themselves in. The only sounds were the rumble of the truck's engine and the grunts of protest the baby made every time they hit a bump.

"He needs us, Jonathan. He needs now," Martha said, pleading with her husband. She cradled the child she already saw as her son tighter to her, shivering slightly. "We can't give him up now." Jonathan gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "Jonathan…say something."

"…Clark."

"What?"

"What about Clark?" Jonathan asked. "After your maiden name?"

Tears in her eyes, Martha stared down at the baby, the little guy looking right back at her. "What do you say, little guy? Think that name fits you? Are you a-"

%^%^%^

"-Clark! Clark Kent!"

Clark blinked at the normally soft spoken librarian shouted at him.

(Smallville, Kansas: May 1998)

Stiffening, and praying she hadn't noticed him reading the tome he had selected as super speed, Clark turned to face her. "Yes Ms. Reynolds?"

Ms. Reynolds shook her head. "The library is closing, Clark, and I can't have you sleeping in here."

Clark nodded, adjusting his glasses. He didn't need them, of course, not in the traditional sense. No, they more served as a reminder of who he was…and who he had to pretend to be. "I'm sorry…I'll just get going."

Ms. Reynolds' placed a soothing hand on his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs. "Don't be sorry. If I could, I'd leave this place open all night for you. But your parents are going to be worried sick." 

"I know…I'll get going right now." He paused, rubbing the back of his head. "Listen, Ms. Reynolds…graduation is this weekend, and I don't know if I will see you again after that…but…I want to thank you for letting me spend so much time here." 

Ms. Reynolds smiled. "Clark…if more students were like you, the world would be a better place." She held out her hand. "I'll take care of that book for you…what are you reading?"

Clark was already moving towards the doors, calling out hastily, "Oh, nothing special!"

As the door swung close, Ms. Reynolds looked at the hardback copy of "Origin of Species".

%^%^%^%

Later that night, Clark sat on the front porch, his father on the wooden rocker, his mother beside them both. "I'm getting stronger every day, dad." Clark held up a steel bar, twisting it like it was bread dough. "And look…" Focusing, his eyes glowed red, the metal mimicking the color before it melted in his hands. "It doesn't make any sense."

Jonathan picked up the bar, grimacing at the heat it still gave off. "I wish I had the answers for you Clark, I really do."

"I have been reading everything I can about evolution, experiments on the human body…none of it explains what I am." He shook his head. "None of it explains why I am like this…who I am."

Martha sighed, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "You are Clark, our son. That's all that matters."

"I know that, mom, in here." He tapped his forehead, before trailing his fingers down to his chest. "But…in here…I can't stand not knowing how I ended up this way. Was I suppose to have all these abilities? Were they given to me? How can even do…what I do?" He slowly rose off the porch, hovering in mid-air. "I break the laws of physics! I can lift the tractor over my head! If you shot me in the face, the bullets would be more damaged than I would be!"

"Clark, come down and take a breath," Jonathan said, grabbing his son's hand. Clark closed his eyes, slowly floating back to earth. "I told you, if we knew the answers, we'd tell you. But we don't. What I do know is that for good or for evil, you have these abilities, and you need to be careful with them."

Clark nodded, his mood sullen. "I know dad, you've told me enough times about those men in the black suits."

"We just don't want you to be hurt," Martha said.

"I can't be hurt, mom. Not anymore."

The each remained silent for a moment, lost in their thoughts. The winds whistled softly through the trees, and already the smell of freshly tilled soil filled the air. May was fast approaching, and soon the fields that surrounded the Kent family home would be filled with wheat, baking in the hot sun.

"Clark," Jonathan finally said, "I know we've been talking about college, how it will mean leaving home. But…maybe you should leave a bit earlier."

"Dad?"

"You want answers, son. And they aren't going to be found here. Not uncommon for kids to take a year off to backpack through Europe…and while you can't exactly do that with your football scholarship, you could still spend a few months traveling." He paused, gathering his thoughts in order. "I mean…the world is getting smaller Clark, and for a boy that can fly, it's not that big at all. It would be good for you, to be on your own, to see other sights than just Kansas." He smiled, ever so slightly. "And maybe, maybe one of those places holds the answers you're looking for." 

Clark stared at his father. "But…but what about the farm?"

Jonathan smiled. "Plenty of people looking for work, and I think I can afford to hire on some help. Besides, I'm not that old, not yet." He clasped his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Besides…the farm comes second, Clark. You are what matters."

Before any of them could blink, Jonathan found himself hugging his son, patting the young man on the back. "Thank you…thank you…" Clark looked up at him, grinning. "I'm gonna call Lana…give her…some of the news."

Jonathan waved his son off, Martha taking his hand as they heard Clark rush up the stairs.

"You are a good father, Jonathan Kent," Martha said.

"It's easy…with a son like that."

%^%^%^%

Author's Notes: Yes, I know it is called LexCorp. LuthorCorp will be explained later.

I like the idea from Lois and Clark that Martha is smart, very smart. As for Jonathan, my grandfather got a bachelors in agriculture, so it is not that uncommon. I never liked the idea of Jonathan and Martha being old, bumbling country bumpkins. These people had to be smart, if they had hopes of raising such a special child.

If I were casting Martha and Jonathan, I would go for people that would be around their mid 50s. I don't know who could play Jonathan…he'd have to look like a farmer. I actually imagine my father in a way…he isn't doughy, maybe a tad soft in a spot or two, but his arms are as thick as any superheroes and his skin tanned permanently by the sun. He's a bit too young from Jonathan, being just on the young side of 50, but someone like him, a tall, strong, smart man, would make a great Jonathan.

My pick for Martha is the first of my controversial actor choices: Carrie Fisher. I have seen some recent interviews of her, and I think she could make an excellent Martha, bringing a slight sass but also a touch of love to the character.

Next chapter gets us to Metropolis, and we meet Clark, Lois and others.


End file.
